Project: ELEMENTS
by Iturbide
Summary: Mewtwo was not Team Rocket's only foray into genetics manipulation as a way to power. While the second Mew was still in development, experiments on humans modified with Pokemon DNA were conducted, with intent to create powerful assassins capable of going undetected in all environments. But not everyone agrees with the experiment, least of all the woman who inspired the project...


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I do not own the Pokemon franchise or any of the 700-odd things known by the same name. I do, however, spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about the games in terms of real-world science, and all theories here are my own, as are all human characters (unless otherwise noted).

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 _This world is inhabited by an incredible array of diverse organisms known as Pokémon. They come in all shapes and sizes, from digging mammals under a foot tall to gargantuan sea serpents with the power to raze cities in a day. These creatures, while seemingly unrelated to one another, share one feature in particular that sets them apart from the humans that co-exist with them: the ability to interbreed and produce fertile offspring, defining these varied lifeforms under the umbrella of single unified species._

 _While there are a number of Pokémon that bear a strong resemblance to humans (to the point that there is a breeding group known as the 'humanshape' group), humans and Pokémon are two separate species, unable to produce fertile or even viable offspring; however, there is archaeological evidence to suggest that this has not always been the case. Records from the Canalave Library in the Sinnoh region have documented folktales, transmitted first by oral tradition and later transcribed, which lend credence to the notion that Pokémon and humans were previously members of the same species, and humans evolved gradually into a separate one. The tale states:_

 _"There once were Pokémon that  
became very close to humans.  
There once were humans and Pokémon  
that ate together at the same table.  
It was a time when there existed no  
differences to distinguish the two."_

 _The final two lines of this passage indicate that, at one time in their evolutionary history, there were no differences between humans and Pokémon: they may well have been capable of interbreeding and producing viable offspring that would continue to reproduce. While this is no longer the case, there may yet be traces of that shared evolutionary heritage locked within the human genome._

 _There are many cases of unexplained human phenomena that science has offered no reasonable explanation for. Psychics, such as the Saffron City Gym Leader in Kanto, are capable of manipulating objects without physical contact. There are even those who can communicate with and sense Pokémon through the power of 'aura.' While science has most often attempted to prove that such powers are only elaborate hoaxes, there are cases that cannot be defrauded. And when a shared evolutionary heritage with Pokémon – including psychic types and aura readers such as Lucario – is considered, these extraordinary claims may prove to be fact, rather than fiction._

 _The evolutionary remnants of humans' shared evolutionary heritage with Pokémon may pave the way for incredible medical advances. The ongoing Pokémon Genome Project strives to map out the gene sequences of each Pokémon subspecies in the world and codify each functional gene. If desirable gene sequences could be spliced into human genetic sequences, the cures to debilitating illnesses, genetic defects, and even crippling trauma may be within reach. The genes that strengthen bones in steel types like Lucario could be used to alleviate brittle bone disease, while the genes that give psychic types their psychokinetic ability to move objects could give paraplegics a measure of independence in the ability to manipulate their own environments to satisfy their own needs. The possible medical applications are nearly limitless…_

* * *

No more.

She'd made up her mind. No more. She couldn't take any more. No more being sick to her stomach, no more throwing up water until her mouth was dry and her throat burned, no more needles, no more tubes, no more any of it. She couldn't take it anymore.

She'd have to be quick, if she was going to make it. They might have stopped sending two men in white coats when she started getting sick, but even if she got away, she'd never been out of this cramped grey room. She'd have to run and find a place to hide, or some way to escape, before someone could catch her again.

But she was willing to take that chance. Because she couldn't stand it anymore. The shots and the tests and the sickness. She had to get away.

A face appeared in the round window set into the door. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pretending she didn't see. The door creaked as it swung open, and she watched as the man in the white coat came in with his arms full.

Now or never.

She lunged for the door. He scrambled to block her way, but he couldn't grab her without dropping his load, and that would risk breaking things. She dodged around him and out into the hallway, glanced left – dead end - turned right, and ran.

She didn't recognize anything. The man in the white coat was yelling after her, but she couldn't make out the words over her own breath and heartbeat. Doors on both sides were closed, but starting to open as the man down the hall shouted, which just made her run harder. There had to be a way out, there had to be a—

A man in black appeared at the end of the hall, and she skidded to a stop. She looked left, found a wall, looked right, saw another hallway, and lunged for it, looking left, right, left again, for any open doors, anywhere to go—

There! One door was partly open, and she dove inside, closing it behind her and leaning back against it. Hopefully no one had seen her come in here. She could just wait until the search passed and then find a way out—

Someone was talking.

She froze, staring wide-eyed at the white-coated woman at the desk and the man in black standing next to her. The woman started to stand up and she panicked, turning to pull the door open again—

It swung open under her hands, and she sprawled on the cold tile floor. Someone grabbed her and she screamed, thrashing against the painful grip pulling her upright. But she wasn't strong enough to get away. Running through the unfamiliar halls had used up all her energy.

She saw the woman in the doorway staring after her as they took her away. The concern in her face was the last thing she saw before they dragged her around the corner.

* * *

She didn't feel right.

It started when she woke up. Or maybe that was what woke her up in her dark room, with only one bright window in the door to the hall. Her chest felt tight, and breathing hurt.

She didn't know what she'd done. She hadn't been doing anything different. She'd tried to get away from the men in their white coats, but she always did that, and it had never made her hurt before. They'd given her a shot, but those had never made her hurt before, either. Sometimes she saw a spark when she touched something metal (not that there was much of that here) for a while after, or she felt a little tingly and restless for a couple days, but this was different.

She didn't like this. It scared her. And she couldn't call for help, because no one would come. No one had when they brought her here, after all. She'd cried and cried for days, and no one came. Eventually she stopped trying.

But she'd never hurt like this before.

"Help me."

Her voice sounded little and scared, and it didn't get very far. Her chest felt tight. It was hard to talk.

But she tried again anyway. "Help me!"

Her chest burned as she tried to breathe in again. She coughed, and it felt like something was squeezing her heart too tight. She pressed her hands to her chest, and all she felt was her heart beating too fast, like a scared bird—

The door swung open.

She looked up, wanting to run but knowing she'd only fall if she tried. There was a woman in a white coat standing in the doorway. She'd never seen a woman come here before. The woman came toward her, and she shrank back, trying to make herself smaller even as she came closer and closer and—

The woman took her hand, and held it gently, touching two fingers against the underside of her wrist. She didn't do anything for a few seconds after that. And when she did move, she turned to the still-open door.

"Bring a D-fib unit!" she yelled. And then the woman sat down next to her on the creaky metal cot, and put an arm around her shoulders, still holding her hand gently. "It's okay," she said, her voice softer. "I'll keep you safe."

And even after everything – after all the shots from the men in the white coats, after all the shocks and the tingling restlessness, after all the fear and the loneliness – she wanted to believe it.

Because this time, when she called for help, someone had come.

* * *

 _Oct. 27  
Entry 001_

 _This log will provide an on-going record of observations regarding the progress of Team Rocket Project: Elements. Starting tomorrow, I will be taking over as project lead, which will entail overseeing and directing all development, experimentation, testing, and evaluation. At current, the project is comprised of three test subjects, though my understanding is that more will be added if results with these preliminary subjects are deemed positive._

 _This hard-copy record, Mew willing, will act as a private written log of information regarding the individual subjects that would otherwise be deemed superfluous. Observations regarding their personalities, tastes, habits, and overall mental, physical, and emotional conditions. From what I've seen thus far, these aspects have been entirely ignored. The subjects have been treated impersonally, and with a minimalistic touch: more care is given to the well-being of prisoners in a Kanto penitentiary than has been given to the subjects in this project._

 _Which is my fault, as much as everything else in this fiasco. If I hadn't been so naïve as to think the 'personal' files here were private, this project wouldn't exist, and those kids would still be living with their families. Or at least somewhere warm and safe, not being used as lab Rattata for a hypothesis that should never have been tested._

 _It was a thought experiment. That's what it was supposed to be, at least. There was no hypothesis, no experimental procedure, nothing. It was only a mental exercise._

 _But Team Rocket apparently saw potential in it, as they sifted through their employees' personal files. So they took it, and they started this. This horrible, torturous, farcical excuse for an experiment to better humanity. They only want to make more weapons. The sort that don't have conspicuous spherical containment or set off metal detectors._

 _As of now, the only thing they've done right (and that term hardly seems appropriate, given the circumstances) is choose young test subjects. Younger organisms are better able to adapt to physical changes and even traumas, as compared to older ones (this is particularly evident in cases of burns, where children and young adults are more likely to survive larger injuries with proper treatment in comparison to adults and elderly patients with the same injuries). There's vast room for improvement, though, and that's where I'll begin tomorrow._

 _I wish I could make the project a failure. But I know how Team Rocket disposes of failed experiments. After all, they can't risk evidence being uncovered by the International Police, let alone regional authorities. So I have to make it a success. I have to try to make this project work._

 _All at the expense of these poor kids, who never asked for any of this._

 _I've made a terrible mistake._

 _Now all I can do is try to minimize the damage._


End file.
